


if nothing else could change me (would you love me?)

by daskey



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Secret Relationship, catco being buzzfeed, implied agentcorp/agentreigncorp, lena luthor needs a break, the author does not condone lena luthor’s coping methods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daskey/pseuds/daskey
Summary: Her downfall is not slow, it is not graceful. She crashes and burns and her image does too. It is when she’s at her lowest that the eyes of the public turn to watch her fall.AKA Lena has a very public celebrity breakdown post reveal. Luckily, she doesn’t have to deal with her pesky emotions alone.title from montaigne - i’m a fantastic wreck
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers/Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Samantha "Sam" Arias/Lena Luthor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 215





	if nothing else could change me (would you love me?)

**Author's Note:**

> trying something shorter to deal with the weird directions they’re dragging our girl lena into lmao.   
> big thx to the person who read the draft of this and didn’t want a shoutout. ily xo

__

_ There is a life out there where I am free to feel complete, wow _

_ Is that a reset button? _

_ Don't touch that, wait one second- _

for your love - montaigne

==

There are things that the press knows about her. That the public is aware of. They have constructed a narrative with the images and videos they capture of her. They spin her words to fit their story when she is asked about her brother in an interview about the breakthroughs they've made in cancer treatments. 

It's meant to be a proud moment. She  _ is  _ proud of what they've achieved. She's hopeful that it could be something 

The question is a shot to the gut. It blindsides her, and as she's reeling she faces the blonde haired journalist in front of her and her mind fills in blue eyes, glasses, and a droll button-up where there isn't one. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"Your brother, Lex." Not-Kara reiterates, as if Lena simply didn't hear her. "Since he did succumb to his cancer recently and-" 

_ The public doesn't know _ . She's comforted by the thought, but her blood still runs cold at the implications. The narrative out there of his death has absolved her of all wrongdoing, and she isn't sure if that's a good thing. 

It's ammunition for those who know the truth.

_ Kara knows.  _

She isn't sure how she feels about that. The interviewer waits for a response, an over-plucked eyebrow arched in challenge. 

Lena clears her throat. "I don't see how that's relevant." 

"Well," the woman adjusts herself in her seat, her hands curled on her lap. She's confident and unafraid of the coldness of Lena's response. If anything, there's a spark in her eye that suggest she's well aware that she's struck a nerve and she fully intends to press harder now that she's found a reaction. "Do you feel like you could have done more? To keep him alive." 

"I'm here to talk about the advancements that L-Corp has made, in conjunction with scientists from what was formerly Spheerical Industries, in groundbreaking cancer treatments. If you're not interested in talking about-," she stumbles at the thought of Jack, of his people, his achievements being skipped over in favour of another gossip piece about the Luthor’s and their drama. "If you're not interested in talking about the research then I'm sorry but this interview is over.” 

-

“At least it’s not a sex scandal,” Jess says the next day as she pokes at her croissant. It's eleven, and she's already had a meeting with her PR team, and a few extended conversations over email which all seemed to come down to her, making a decision as to how she wanted to approach the situation. 

It's a shit place to be in, and she's all around  _ exhausted _ by the prospect of more meetings with the press, but the levity in Jess' tone makes her smile. 

"Can't have a sex scandal if you don't-" 

Jess chokes on her coffee. The look she shoots Lena is one that speaks volumes- she doesn't believe her in the slightest. 

Jess is one of the few people who knows. Lena is sure that even if she hadn't told her, she'd figure it out eventually. She's figured out when the birthdays of the important people in her life fall, and makes sure to remind her a week before them. She's her right hand, and she's sure to compensate her for the extra attention to detail.

Jess knows. She knows a lot more than she lets on as she puts on an expression of professional neutrality, reaching for her phone in its pastel pink case on the glass table. "Do you want me to call your wife? She could weigh in on the meeting with Obsidian-" 

"Rojas and Sam in the same room? I don't think that'd be good," Lena quickly dismisses that idea. Jess hides her smirk rather well, but Lena clearly catches the snort she tries to cover behind a hand. 

-

It had been a hasty thing, at first. A desperate thing. Sam was afraid of losing Ruby when her father appeared out of nowhere- a sports coach now with a considerable salary. And at the time, Sam's salary had been nothing to laugh about. 

It was her record that made her concerned. Something that Lena would never hold against her, of course. Crimes made out of desperation, but crimes nonetheless that had been exhumed to brandish against her in court for the custody of a five-year-old Ruby. 

They had never really been  _ friends _ , Sam and Lena had found that connection instantly and as they grew together their relationship changed. 

Sam’s in a whole other city, and while they’d lived apart for some time since Lena moved to National City, the absence is more palpable now. 

Especially after Kara- or should she say,  _ Supergirl-  _

Not now. Zen. Breathe. Lena pinches the bridge of her nose, and refuses to look at Sam's office door as she passes. Because Sam isn't there anymore, and it isn't her office. 

She focuses on keeping her head up high as she heads for the balcony. 

But she won’t be upset about that. She has other people, right? Friends that weren’t embroiled with this whole “Let’s keep a secret from Lena” thing... she can name them. She can name them right now. All of them... well, Nia knew, and so did Brainy, Alex knew... Lena isn’t sure why that hurts more than the others. 

She can hear Sam’s voice in her head.  _ Because you love her,  _ she’d tease, with that big smile and she’d poke at Lena’s sides until she’s forced to let out an unladylike laugh.  _ I don’t blame you.  _

Almost instantly, Sam’s picture comes up, and her phone is dancing quite precariously on the flat metal handrail. She's tempted to push it off the edge. 

She doesn't. Instead she pulls out a cigarette, lights it up with shaking fingers as the vibrations continue. 

She lets it go to voicemail. 

Sam sends her a text.  _ 'if you shut me out, i will get backup’ _ . Lena doesn't bother to read into that. She's not shutting anyone out. She just needs- she just needs  _ time _ . 

She takes a slow drag of her cigarette. 

-

She leaves a shoe on the sidewalk, her driver tries to help her up but she waves him back, clambering into the backseat herself. 

Head spinning, ears ringing. Eyes slip shut in the back of the car and she has to be woken up once she's at her building. 

Her downfall is not slow, it is not graceful. She crashes and burns and her image does too. It's something that Lillian would laugh at if she could see her now, carrying her shoes as she stumbles into the elevator to her penthouse. 

She doesn't make it to her bed. She stays on the couch until the early hours of the morning, when the light filtering in through floor to ceiling windows begins to turn a smoky indigo. 

-

Of course Catco is over it the next day. She blocks Kara's number as she nurses a hangover over her kale and quinoa salad. 

-

Her weeks are busy enough. Running a company isn't  _ easy,  _ although she'd like to think she makes it appear as such. Her attention is required almost every hours of those days, which makes the silence of the weekends all the more jarring. 

Hence the partying. Which is something she really never enjoyed doing - she doesn't enjoy it now, either. But it's a distraction from sitting around and drinking herself into a coma. At least this way, she's being social to some degree. 

She avoids the spaces that the others would usually go to. The alien bar is off limits. She doesn't go to Noonan's during the day either. Not because she's afraid of course. She'd just rather avoid an awkward confrontation. 

Jess even asks her if she'd like to go and have drinks with her college friends one Friday evening. She politely declines, because she knows it'd be awkward for Jess to have her boss there. 

Perhaps she should have taken her up on the offer. She spends Friday night at a moderately upscale bar. She nearly gets drunk enough to get cut off, but there must be something in her glare - the intensity, or the unmistakable  _ Luthor Green _ \- that gets her one last drink from a woman who sweats under her heavy mask of foundation. 

Lillian would have a fit upon seeing Lena drag her image down into the mud like she is now. 

Or perhaps she wouldn't. Perhaps it wouldn't even surprise her. 

It was inevitable. She was always the  _ weakest  _ between herself and Lex. And if Lex was prone to madness, then she would be too. 

But her way of lashing out at a Super... it's not directed at dragging down the red cape that still flies over National City. 

It's directed at herself. 

She falls back against the bar, and lets her stance slump as she absorbs the room around her. It's always more intense when she lets herself get to this level of drunk and disorderly. The room isn't turning but she feels the heaviness in her head when she turns to look at the person beside her, trying to hold a conversation with her. 

Their voice breaks over the heavy thrum of the music, but she can't find it in herself to care about whatever it is he's saying. He isn't the person she wants, as she takes him to the dancefloor to hopefully shut him up. She loses herself to the lights and the music and the dancing, and then ends up having to push him away when he tries to rest a hand on her back to steady her from falling when the room starts to sway. 

"I don't need your chivalry," she spits. She leaves the building, and walks home. 

It's unwise. She's drunk, and although she's only a few blocks from home, she's never really gone outside like this without letting her security know. The cold air stings, even as she wraps her arms around her, and tries to focus on going in a straight line. 

It's easier said than done. Wet concrete reflects light and the sounds of the city seem to encapsulate her all around. She jumps at a rattling down an alley she passes, it's only a black cat- luminescent eyes track her as she walks past, and it slips back into the shadows. 

Of course it's a black cat. Bad luck, some would say. She grits her teeth and continues on her journey, fingertips pressing painfully into her arms as if she can push her goosebumps right back into her skin. 

She can only hope the man hasn't followed her. That there's nobody following her. She gets the idea that maybe she should be paying attention to that when she reaches the start of her block, and as she glances around the colours and lights smear in a way that's almost beautiful. 

Till she notices something. There's a motorcycle on the other side of the street. The person on it stares in her direction, face unreadable behind the heavy helmet. Another bus passes, and both bike and rider disappear. She passes that as just paranoia, and steps into the lobby of her building. 

Sam's voice never ceases to calm her down. It's in the middle of a phonecall with her, where Sam's recounting something about Ruby. She's made it to the intermediate 12-16 girls' team. Her voice is filled with pride, and as she speaks Lena could almost close her eyes and imagine she's in the room with her. 

But she isn't. 

Her mind isn't so far gone that she can ignore the sound of static on the line, the press of the phone on the side of her face. She imagines what she looks like right now. Shoes thrown at the base of the bed, still dressed from the bar she'd made a scene at. Her hair a mess, eyeliner smeared from wiping her eyes too many times on the ride home. 

-

She doesn't  _ need  _ anyone's pity. She doesn't need Sam's quiet disapproval of her actions, she doesn't let it get to her. She doesn't read the articles loudly proclaiming her downfall, doesn't let that get beneath her skin. 

She's had worse things said about herself. 

-

The sunglasses don't come off until she is seated in her car, and her driver begins the drive to L Corp. The privacy partition goes up with a quiet hiss. Only then does she feel like she's alone. 

She knows she can't go around like this forever. The dark circles under her eyes are easily masked but it isn't so easy to disguise the redness in her eyes themselves. She takes the glasses off, finds the small mirror she stashes in the back seat for this reason. 

She watches that reflection move as the car moves, her gaze unwavering. Enraptured by the indifference she sees stared back at her, the sheer lack of emotion, even as her thoughts wander to things that pull and stretch and tease at the raw edges of her ever-healing heart. 

She tilts her chin up. The mask is in place. She is ready for her day. 

-

"It's not your company we don't feel is investable, Lena. It's-" He doesn't finish his sentence. None of them have the balls to tell her the truth, cowering in their plush leather seats, sweating under pressed collars. 

Lena  _ seethes.  _ She can read between the lines. She has to try and keep herself calm, but the rage boils red-hot, and she sets her pen down on the table with a little more force than necessary. 

The loud  _ clack _ echoes through the room. 

It's not betrayal. She has learned not to take things like this personally, she's had a trial by fire after 

"Well, whoever doesn't feel like they have confidence in me or my company anymore, you know where the door is." 

It takes five whole minutes of excruciating silence for people to filter out, one by one, until only Lena remains at the conference table. 

-

There's nothing really of note for the rest of the day. Minutes pass like their own form of torture. She can't work with the constant  _ noise  _ of her thoughts in her head, and she itches for a drink, or a cigarette, or a swift bullet between her eyes. 

She doesn't get a call from Sam after that disastrous meeting, but she figures the news will reach her rather quickly. Or maybe she has heard, and is just ignoring her. There's a hollow feeling in her chest at the radio silence from her partner. 

So she stands by the window and watches the city pass by. 

National City is beautiful, but the smog sits on the horizon, a haze that turns the blue of the sky sickly and muted. 

She can see a lot from up here. She watches the transition between day and night, as the sun slips down and lights switch on as it starts to get dark. 

She doesn't realise how late its getting till she notices the lights in some offices begin to switch off for the day, and a glance at her phone tells her it's nearing five. 

"Miss Luthor, there's a Ms Danv-" Jess flinches back when Lena looks back with such  _ venom  _ in her eyes. 

"I told you not to-" she begins, but Jess shakes her head, holding up her hands to halt Lena's tirade in its tracks. 

"No, the other one. Uh- sorry.  _ Director  _ Danvers." 

That catches her by surprise. She tries not to let it show, but as her eyes widen Jess tilts her head to the side, awaiting her answer. 

"No," slips out of her lips, she isn't sure of the answer as Jess' mouth twitches into an odd frown. "No, don't let her in." 

Jess nods, and goes to get the Director to leave. 

Apparently it's a lot harder to get rid of a determined Alex Danvers than she first thought. 

She comes back, later at night when the staff are mostly gone, apart from the security and of course the brooding Lena. 

She comes back when Lena has dismissed Jess. 

She comes back with a  _ warrant _ , and she makes quite the stir heading through her building, having to push past a second set of guards, they alert her with a quiet notification to her phone, and she watches the footage as Alex nearly stumbles with how fast she speedwalks to the elevator, and she spams the button to the executive level. 

She leans her head on her hand, and watches her ascend, nearly bouncing in place. Up, up, up, probably passing the twenty-third floor now, and then- 

_ Ding! _

Hurried steps in the hallway outside. Lena has the foresight to remember to butt out her cigarette before Alex comes barging right in, skittering to a stop when she notices that Lena is just standing out on the balcony, the lights of National City behind her. 

A second passes. 

Then- “Sam told me-“ 

“Whatever it is, she lied to get you to come here,” Lena says, glancing over her shoulder. 

Alex's jaw tenses, and there's a challenging raise to her eyebrows. "So what I'm seeing on the news every night isn't anything to be concerned about?" 

Lena doesn't flinch as she responds. "I'm a young woman. I'm allowed my indulgences," 

Alex purses her lips, and she looks a little defeated when her shoulders slump like that. Her hands fidget by her sides though, as she glances about the office, glances back, then at Lena, that same concerned look in her eyes. “I’m guessing there’s no super serious emergency so...” 

She knows the vibes that emanate from her must not be that friendly, but she certainly doesn’t like to see Alex taking a half-step back, gesturing to the door. She’s come this far already, she’s come all the way up the building, and although Lena is still a bit hurt from the Kara thing, that quarrel is between her and the Super, not between herself and Alex. 

Alex, whose wide eyes seem to counteract the image her leather jacket and tight jeans convey. 

“Don’t go,” it slips out, Alex barely catches it. It’s a quiet plea, and Alex pauses in her slow retreat. 

Alex doesn’t go. 

There’s a certain level of whimsy to sitting on a rooftop, staring at the stars. One would almost call it romantic, but there’s no stars for them to see. 

They instead sit up on an air cooling unit, Alex having hoisted Lena up like she weighed nothing, and they stare out at the city beneath them. 

The buildings hug the coast, and she can see more lights off on the water, ships out on the bay. The wind has picked up a little, there’s a hint of a chill on the air, but Alex holds out the bottle of wine by the neck, offering her another sip. 

This is what it comes down to. Lena and Alex sit on a big metal box, chugging expensive wine from the bottle. 

She isn’t sure why she wants her here, but she’s comforted by the solid warmth of her beside her. She doesn’t move much, doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill the silence. It’s...  _ peaceful,  _ in a way that not a lot of things have been. 

And it’s here that she thinks. That she realises, she’s come  _ far _ in these past few months, past few  _ years _ . Not only in what she’s done with L-Corp, but outside of that. 

She’s made a name for herself. She’s tried to be good, and achieved it. She’s saved her best friend. She’s made new friends... 

And then she shot her brother. 

But for some reason, even that brings her a sense of calm, in some sick, twisted way. Maybe she’s a Luthor after all, maybe that’s the Luthor in her, satisfied that she’s found whatever way to solve that problem. 

“I could die right now,” Lena says, as a way of making conversation. 

Alex’s head rolls to the side, and she looks at her for a long moment, nearly staring her down. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” 

“No, I mean... if I was to die. I would be content,” 

“Would you?” Alex says it simply, taking the bottle of wine, taking a sip, looking back at the city, and suddenly Lena isn’t sure anymore. 

“Maybe,” 

“I’m worried. You’re a little tipsy, and we’re having this conversation on a rooftop,” Alex raises an eyebrow, a little smile to her voice, but it falls when she looks properly at Lena again, almost studies her. 

What is it that she sees? Lena will never know for sure. The city knows her as the sister of a villain. Some see her as a broken, fragile thing. Something to be fixed, to be coddled. 

She isn’t sure of how she wants to be seen. As  _ herself _ , but who is she really? Outside of her family, outside of her job, outside of the friendships she keeps. She has many faces, but none of them feel like her own, and the more she thinks about it, the more she realises that she’s tired. 

“People always look fondly upon the departed,” Lena finally puts that thought into words, wrestles it into something that makes sense, but it feels morbid. “It would be nice to not be in charge of my image for once, I feel like I’ve set everything well enough that if I was to die, people would be able to say I was a good person,” 

Alex places the bottle on her left side. If Lena was to try and get it, she would have to lean over her. 

She wonders if it’s intentional, but then she realises why, when Alex shuffles a little closer, and her hand settles on her arm, gently guiding her focus to those dark, searching eyes. 

“Fuck  _ ‘people’ _ . Who cares what they think. You  _ are  _ a good person, right now, in the present. I think you’re one of the best of us. You make me want to be  _ better _ , cause of how goddamn  _ selfless  _ you are,” 

The intensity of her words is surprising, as is the little self deprecating smile that spreads on her face. Wait- no. That smile is something else, she isn’t sure how to name it, she’s never seen Alex looking at her like this. 

“It’s easy to say that I shouldn’t care what people think, but-“ 

“It’s a million times harder to actually believe it? Yeah, I know,” 

“This whole thing just...” She doesn’t want to mention her name, because she feels like a broken record, and it feels  _ petty.  _ Her emotions feel childish, unrefined, unchecked, this betrayal makes her want to cry, makes her want to run away from it all, break off from the friends she thought she had. “I feel like nobody believed I could ever be good, because nobody told me. They kept this from me, just because they thought I might snap one day,” 

Alex says nothing, but Lena feels her move closer, to get her arm around Lena’s shoulders right now. They don’t make eye contact, and this makes it easier, along with the red wine that loosens her tongue, to talk freely, to simply stare at the surrounding buildings, to talk to the empty night air. 

“It feels like I was kept out on purpose. And I’m not sure if that means that nobody wanted me in the group in the first place— and that’s a foolish way of thinking, I know, I’m  _ sure  _ people enjoyed my presence, but I can’t help but feel that I wasn’t trusted enough to be in on it all. 

“And I helped them — I mean, I helped Kara, and I helped Supergirl — and I thought I had proved myself then, but there were things that Supergirl said to me that just... they  _ hurt.  _ And maybe I was jumping the gun at times, being overly cautious, dabbling with things that made her feel threatened, but now to know that it was someone who I’d let into my life like that, I...” 

The first tear falls. She doesn’t know if Alex notices, her arm continues to be slung over her shoulders, and as Lena grips the gritty metal underneath her, she wonders if Alex thinks she is weak now. 

She doesn’t. Her voice is a low murmur, but Lena can hear it clearly with how close they are now. “Trusting people isn’t a weakness. Letting people in isn’t a weakness. It’s  _ human _ ,” 

They leave the roof eventually. It gets colder, and they retreat to the office, where the main lights have now switched off. There are only the sensors, that follow their movements, and light little directional bulbs in the hallway as they go, to gently guide them out. 

They don’t leave. They go to Lena’s office, and it feels odd to lay against the carpet, but she saw Alex do it, so now she’s there too. 

It’s oddly cathartic. The world is at a different angle, and while it isn’t all that comfortable, it’s nice to at least reduce the pressure on her spine for a little while. 

She’s been thrown around like a ragdoll in a plane, had various catches and falls, and at the ripe age of twenty-four she sometimes wonders if her muscles have gone on strike. She also has terrible posture, wears six inch heels daily, and sits for long periods of time that make her fitness tracker squeal. 

The floor is nice. Now it’s Alex’s time to share. 

“I’m so used to putting myself second, that I don’t know what to do when I put myself first,” 

She turns her head to the side, and sees Alex’s face right next to her. They must look quite the sight, Alex has her hands steepled on her stomach, her jacket bundled up and placed under her head like a makeshift pillow. Her arms are pale, muscled, dotted with scars that stand out, even in this dim light. 

“My life was always about Kara. Then I came out, and it was all about Maggie. And now as Director, it feels like it’s all about the DEO,” 

“Do you still want a child?” 

“Yes. But I don’t want to have to choose between having a child, and finding love. You know how Sam finds it tough,” 

Alex doesn't know the nature of the relationship between Lena and Sam. Lena wouldn't expect her to, because it's the one secret that she's kept for herself. 

Loving is not a weakness, but it is a vulnerability. And with Lex and Lillian so set on manipulating her to join their causes, a spouse and a child would be a risk. 

“It’s not only because of Ruby. Sam is an incredibly difficult date. She’s quite indecisive,” she says with a huff. 

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," 

"I am," she admits, and Alex turns to look at her, surprise painting her features. "You'll find someone, Alex. Any woman would be lucky to have someone like you." 

The corner of Alex's lips twitches into something approximating a smile, for the briefest of moments before it falls, and she simply watches Lena, she's trying to read her, she's searching Lena's face for any hint that she’s lying. "You know just what to say, huh?" 

“I’m not just saying it for the sake of making you feel better. I don’t say empty words,” 

“Well, I’m glad I get the Lena Luthor seal of approval. I should put that on my Tinder-“ 

“I don’t see you as the type to use that kind of thing,” 

“My sister’s tried to get me onto it,” 

That brings her pause. The mention of her sister. She tries to change the subject. “Do you... like that sort of thing?” 

Alex’s fingers pause their absent drumming, and she goes back to looking at the ceiling, her brow furrowed as she thinks, ponders the question. “Do you mean sex? Cause I  _ like  _ sex,” she deflects, giving Lena a sly look from the corner of her eye. 

Lena doesn’t get flustered, but she does feel her cheeks get hot at the thought of- now is not the time. “I meant the dating apps. I’ve never been able to use them...” 

“Yeah, I can see why not,” 

Lena raises an eyebrow, purses her lips. “I’m surprised you’re on there, given what you do,” 

“You don’t really put a lot of information in your online dating profile,” That seems to be the crux of it. Alex’s answer is short, rather curt. 

“You’re finding it hard to find a match,” 

Alex pulls her mouth into a hard line. “I feel like I’m constantly having to put on a persona. I can’t just let  _ anyone  _ get close to me, you know? I can’t be truthful on a first date, can’t tell them what I do, and when I come up with something that’s close enough, it’s like those old undercover reflexes come in, and it’s not  _ me  _ that they’re interested in anymore, but the idea of this other Alex,” 

“I guess for what you want as well, it’s not the best place to look,” 

“I’m not about to date at the DEO— even though that would be  _ so  _ much easier, I’m the boss now-“ 

“Understandable,” 

“-and anyone that gets recommended to me... it’s the same thing. I just can’t let them know me,” 

“Letting people in isn’t a weakness,” 

Alex laughs, and it's a hearty sound that warms Lena's heart just a bit. “Who said that? She sounds really smart,” 

“One of the most intelligent, honest, open-hearted people I know,” 

“I just feel like I’m running out of time,” 

“With me around, you don’t have to worry about  _ time _ ,” Lena says softly, reaching to rest a hand on Alex’s. “I can freeze your eggs if you’d like.” 

-

She remembers a terrible apartment in Metropolis. Walking up the stairwell, the sounds of human life filtering through the beige doors she'd pass on each level. The building had all the hallmarks of old Metropolis- built in the 70s or so when practicality won out over aesthetic. It's not that bright but the carpets have at least been changed, there's signs that it has been updated. It seems to be carefully constructed to not be unpleasant, but it lacks any originality, any warmth, or any luxury. 

It's  _ okay.  _

She'd never thought that she'd find herself in a place like this. The pressure in Sam's shower was abysmal and her sofa looked like it had seen better days. It wasn't comfortable either, which was why during the proceedings she ended up sharing a bed with Sam. 

Obviously, that is not the only reason they share a bed, but it's the one they tell themselves. 

But the windows let in the light and there were planter boxes in the windowsill where Ruby was working on growing some flowers, watering them with a little painted watering can she must have made herself. There's the smell of breakfast every morning and the old lady down the hall that Sam has a conversation with every time she goes down to get her mail for her. 

Sometimes, when Ruby comes back from school, she will sit next to Lena at the kitchen table with her homework. She wouldn't often ask for help. Occasionally sighs and furrows her brow, and swings her legs but works in silence in a way that baffles Sam. 

"She's never willingly done homework before," Sam says late one night, as she settles next to Lena who is already settled in her narrow double bed. "I think I need to keep you around. For her sake." 

Lena shuffles over a little to make space for Sam beneath the covers. "I'd annoy you," she says, while holding onto the sheets firmly so Sam doesn't take too much, and leave her cold  _ again.  _ "We'd need to change a few things if I was to stay here." 

"Well,  _ sorry  _ this isn't your fancy uptown penthouse," Sam scoffs. She's clearly not done with the conversation despite facing the other way, after a few seconds of jostling she turns over again to face Lena with a furrow between her brows. "What would you change?" 

"Firstly, that rug in the living room has got to go," 

Sam purses her lips, there's no room for argument there. "... fair enough," 

"Secondly, another counter in the bathroom," Lena lists off, and Sam's eyes widen. 

"Do you know how expensive bathroom renovations are? And besides, the landlord would never accept that," 

"And then we also need a bigger bed," Lena says, and Sam rolls her eyes. "Because I love being close to you, Samantha, but you have very pointy elbows," she accentuates that with a push at the other woman, which gets a laugh out of her. 

"Well I'm surprised you didn't just ask for your own room then, if my pointy elbows bother you that much," Sam says, and smiles in that soft and sweet way. Looking at her like she already understands what she means, but-

There's a tether that holds her from taking the leap. It holds her firmly to the ground, even though right now she  _ wants _ , more than she's ever wanted before. She can't find the words to say next, her mouth firmly held shut. 

It's then that Sam reaches towards her, and Lena's heart skips a beat but she's only reaching over her to switch off the light. The warm weight of her body resting over her for a moment before she starts to pull away, only stopped by Lena's hand on the front of her shirt, pulling her in for one desperate, last, selfish kiss. 

It isn't the last. 

Right now she'd take sleeping next to Sam on that creaky bed with it's lumpy mattress and gaudy coloured bedsheets. Sleeping next to Sam and finding her hair in her face come morning, or a very bony elbow poking into the soft part beneath her ribs. 

Because at least that would give her something to focus on. There's nothing here, she's in a room but it doesn't belong to her. The space is not her own. She owns it, sure, but what differentiates it from any other penthouse? 

She calls Sam. The phone rings and Lena's finger hovers over her one way out, twitching every time it rings. 

Sam answers on the third, with a rather sleepy-sounding  _ "Hey babe,"  _

"Sam," She breathes, and there must be some hint of that hollowness she feels inside that Sam picks up on. 

She pauses. There's a breath, then- " _ Are you okay?"  _

Lena doesn't have to lie. 

"I'm fine. I just-" she closes her eyes, tries not to picture Sam lying in bed next to her when she opens her eyes again after composing herself. "I realised how much I missed you," 

_ "I can come by in two weeks, after the contract signing in Gotham-"  _

"Don't bother. You've got a lot to do there, Metropolis needs you." 

_ "But if you need me more-"  _

"I don't need you." It comes out too fast, nearly defensive. She reels back when she realises how harsh it sounded. "I don't need you  _ here.  _ I need you running my company over there," 

_ "There are plenty of capable people that work for us that could run the Metro branch."  _

"But I trust you the most."

Trust is not something she has in large supply nowadays. And Lena's never wanted for anything, not for attention, not for anything emotional. But she wants- she  _ needs  _ Sam's trust now more than ever. 

She can hear Sam sigh on the other end of the line. " _ Do you trust my judgement?"  _

"Always." 

" _ Then you'll trust me when I say this- there's a few members on my staff that I would trust to watch the company for a few weeks while I visit National City. You're doing deals with Obsidian, anyways, and that could use my oversight since the last time I heard a certain Andrea Rojas-"  _

"Green isn't your colour," 

" _ I'm not jealous of Andrea! She just- I worry about you. Especially now,"  _

"My emotions do not impact my ability to make sound business decisions-" 

_ "I'm not worried about that. I know you'll do the right thing for the company I just-"  _

There's yet another pause, and it's in this silence that Lena realises how shrill Sam's voice just got. She must realise too because again, she sighs, and there's a rustle as she adjusts the phone. 

Her voice is soft- and there's something in her words, raw and childlike- that sounds like defeat.  _ "You're being difficult,"  _

Lena swallows around a lump that forms in her throat at that admission. "I don't want you to see me like this." 

_ "I want to see you,"  _ she plies, but Lena chokes out-

"I'm not the same woman you married." 

There's a heavy breath on the other end of the line. She can picture the way Sam's expression would change, the tension in her brow and the gentle downwards arc of her lips as her eyes study her, looking for her broken pieces so she can hold her together. 

_ "Unless you mean that literally- as in you've been swapped with a doppelganger- then I'm pretty sure that's not true."  _ she tries for levity, it works to get a watery chuckle from Lena. She wipes at her eye and leaves a dark mark on her fingertip for her trouble. 

-

The first thing that comes to her mind when she sees Alex walk in falls off her lips without her even realising. 

“I’m sorry,” 

Alex tilts her head to one side, walking up to the bar to serve herself a glass of thirty-year-old single malt out of the crystal carafe. Lena tried to be a bit more accommodating, a bit less in her face, so she’d settled for something a little cheaper in the hopes that it would be more familiar to the other woman. 

She serves herself the scotch, tilts the glass and brings it to her lips, savouring it for a breath before she’s bringing herself over to sit next to Lena. 

She’s too close. On the other end of the sofa, Lena feels the weight of her presence and it threatens to crush her- 

Or maybe that’s just her own theatrics. She meets Alex’s eyes, and dark brown is open, honest, waiting, but she doesn’t make eye contact for longer than a glance. She casts her gaze around the room, and that surging honesty comes back. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“You said that before,” Alex says, glancing down at the whiskey before placing it on the table. Her hands are still, her face is carefully without emotion, but Lena’s mind is reading novels out of her body language and it only serves to drive the pounding in her heart. “I don’t know why.” 

“I can't do this," she whispers, and the admission hurts, it’s a physical thing that grips at her chest, that brings a stinging to her eyes, and she has to look away. 

She’s always prided herself on her ability to compartmentalise, but she can’t, not right now. Everybody has a limit. This is as far as she can go. 

Lex is dead, and the illusion is broken. She’s deluded herself for long enough, with casual flirtations, with thinly veiled propositions masquerading as jokes. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” she gasps around the lump in her throat. “I can’t be- I can’t be your friend anymore. You have to go,” 

“Lena-“ 

“You have to go.” 

Alex clenches her jaw, and starts a slow walk back to the elevator. She hesitates when she's a few feet away, only to ask- "Is it because of Kara?"

Lena does not dignify that with a response. She doesn't look at her, only goes back to her scotch, pouring herself another. 

"Is it because you were in love with her-" 

That gets her attention. Her head snaps up, and anger burns at the insinuation. "I was never in love with-" 

Alex holds up her hands, a gesture of surrender, and stands up. "I'm sorry, I read that wrong. I just don't want you to go through this alone so... you can call me when you want to talk." 

She doesn't know how to explain it to her. How it feels like cheating, because it's  _ stupid.  _ It isn't. Normal people rely on people, talk to people about their emotions and things like that... 

She grabs her glass of scotch in a shaky hand, and takes a sip. Looks at the reflection of herself in the floor to ceiling window, ghostly against the night sky. 

And Alex, over her shoulder. She tucks her hands in her pockets, and walks towards the door. 

Lena has only ever had a handful of people that she's felt like she could trust with her emotions. Rarely had those friendships ended well. Andrea stabbed her in the back. Kara lied to her- was actively her confidant as Kara Danvers but treated her as just another Luthor as Supergirl. 

The only person who had seen her vulnerable and never let her down was the woman she married. 

And now Alex wanted to be the second person to do such a thing. 

"Alex, wait-" she turns around, fully expecting for her to be gone. But no, Alex is just hovering by the door, eyebrows raised expectantly. "You've already poured yourself a drink, and it'd be a shame for it to go to waste." 

They're not friends. They're not anything more. But it feels significant. 

She becomes one of the other few people who knows the truth about her and Sam. She becomes one of the other few people who knows about the hurt that the Luthor name brings on her family. She tells her about her mother. She exhumes years of things she'd buried deep in the recesses of her mind over alcohol in dark corners of bars that she'd never dream of stepping foot in otherwise. 

She digs it all up but feels  _ lighter  _ for it. 

And she laughs again. 

And she doesn't realise it's been a while since she's done that- and not a respectful chuckle but a laugh that wracks her body and brings tears to her eyes- till Alex cracks a stupid joke about microbiology and her own laughter sounds alien to her ears. 

They don't get to hang out often. They're both busy people. But instead of going out on her own, she finds the time to wait for Alex to be free as well, and Alex is more than happy to escort her out to experience National City's nightlife. 

Nobody really notices her out on those nights. Of course, why would they. Lena Luthor wouldn't be caught dead in jeans and a sweater at a grimy alleyway bar with mismatched seats and tacky neon signage. Alex keeps an eye out for her as well, Lena doesn't notice at first but eventually she picks up on the way Alex angles her body and scans the room, even when she looks comfortable and at rest with an arm up on the back of a seat and a beer bottle in one hand, she never quite lets her guard down. 

She's thankful for that. She'd rather not deal with another scandal, not now when things are going well. The press quiets as there's nothing to address. L Corp's stocks recover infinitesimally, enough for Sam to return to putting smiley faces at the end of her work emails again. 

-

Of course, the good mood doesn't last. 

-

She heads to the event alone, barely aware of what it's meant to be for. Some charity, perhaps. Or celebrating the achievements of some people who have done something. She isn't quite bothered with the why- or the what-, she's more focused on the fact that her PR team had been pushing her to go to this event, breaking that radio silence, to reassure the public - and shareholders - that she's back to her normal self and the scandals of before are long behind her. 

It feels like  _ everyone  _ is watching her as she steps out of the car, a momentary ice-cold chill down her spine as she buckles under the weight of that collective attention that hits her all at once, and all-consuming. There was a time where she would have had someone- Jack, maybe, or Sam- offering their arm to keep her steady. Her driver does, she keeps her touch light and he stays by the car. 

The walk down the gauntlet to the entrance of the event is filled with flashing lights and  _ sound _ . The doorway taunts her, the sweet allure of an escape. 

She keeps her head up, her smile tight and without teeth. 

It fools nobody. 

They shout questions at her, clamoring from behind the barricade. Arms reaching out brandishing cameras and microphones, desperate to glean any hint of a scoop from her. 

And they will. They will pick apart the pictures of her like the vultures they are. Every pixel under the microscope for a hope of spotting something that nobody else would. 

Her stomach churns and she's lightheaded as she enters and notices the flash of a camera. But this is the event photographer. 

She's present but not really, she's tuned into the way her own voice sounds and the pressure of the necklace around her neck, it seems to be pulling tighter and pressing heavier as the night goes on. She feels like she's been sewn into her dress, it constricts her and the uncomfortable heat rises under her skin. She takes a flute of champagne and barely holds herself back from drinking too fast, ever conscious of the eyes on her from every direction. 

Nobody is looking at her. 

She clears her throat, and her eyes seek out someone on her side. Someone she can talk to- an easy ally. There are none. She is surrounded by familiar faces but she feels no comfort in their presence. 

The flash goes off again, the white light startling her for a moment. 

"Can't I get a smile, Lena?" James asks. It isn't James taking the photo. He isn't  _ here _ . 

She leaves. 

It's the next day when she realises that she'd forgotten to take off her wedding ring. 

-

Sam isn't bothered. In fact, she laughs.  _ "I'm not ashamed to call you my wife, you know. I did pretty well for myself."  _ but there's a hint of that nervousness that has always coloured Sam's approach to the topic of their marriage. 

"I'm a murderer." 

There's a sharp inhale.  _ "Well, join the club."  _

_ Shit _ . 

Lena sits up suddenly, her grip on the phone tightening till it's painful as she realises what she's just said. "I didn't-" 

_ "I know you didn't. You're not a murderer. You stopped him from doing a whole lot more evil in the world. You stopped me, too,"  _

"Sam-" 

" _ Don't start trying to counsel me on the whole evil thing again, I have a therapist for that,"  _ Sam counters before she can start to spiral, but her heart is racing nonetheless, thundering away in her eardrums. _ "Speaking of, you should get someone to talk to,"  _

"I'm not going to-" 

_ "I didn't say a therapist. I said  _ _ someone _ _. And by that I mean Alex,"  _ It's sometimes unnerving how she knows what she's going to say, a fraction before she says it. But Sam has a point.  _ "I know you pushed her away but... you know I trust her. Or me, since I'm your wife and I genuinely care about your mental wellbeing,"  _

There's a hole in her chest that seems impossibly deep, and it's from there that her next words emerge and slip out of her mouth. "If you did, you'd come back home." 

_ "Do you mean that?"  _

"Yes." 

-

She gets a few odd looks. She does appear out of place, even though she's tried her hardest to blend in. With her hair tied up and one of Alex's borrowed hoodies she at least isn't instantly recognisable and she tries to keep her head down too. It works, for the most part. She ignores the people who stare at her for too long, only glances up when she notices the flight from Metropolis has started to disembark passengers. 

The second she sees the familiar tall and slender silhouette of Sam Arias, scurrying through the airport like she has too many places to be, she cracks. Tears rush to her eyes and she's  _ alive _ again, every nerve ending buzzing as she runs towards her. 

She  _ hates _ how Sam always chooses to fly economy. She'd been waiting here for  _ ages _ , twenty whole minutes waiting for her to come off the plane. She'd watched other people leave, each time hoping to catch a glimpse of her partner. She'd tried to read a  _ tabloid  _ for heavens' sake, and had seen nothing but her own self as she emerged out of a club, drunk off her face, with an article tacked to it about how her downfall was inevitable. 

Her armor falls, and as she's buried in the scent of  _ home _ , she doesn't bother to hold back tears as Sam's hands steady her, ground her in place. 

"I missed you too, honey." 

She pulls back with a watery laugh. Cups Sam's face and feels as she smiles, leans in to press one- two, imperfect kisses to her lips before resting their heads together. 

But she's brought back to reality when she realises something. Lena pulls back, and glances around Sam. "Where's Ruby, where's my daughter-" 

"Oh great, you remembered me." She realises why she didn't notice Ruby. She's  _ taller  _ than her now, and Ruby is more than aware of that fact when she gives her a smug smirk, and nearly lifts her up when she brings her into a hug, which Sam joins by wrapping long arms around them both. 

Squished between the Arias women, she finally feels like she's  _ home _ . 

-

She's meant to be talking about the advancements that L Corp has made in wearable fitness device technology. She's got the talking points clear in her head, she'd gone over the stats the night before with Sam - she was always better with numbers and data, and she'd found some statistics that sounded impressive that would make great soundbites. 

But of course, that's not what they talk about. Catco's interviewer of the day is Kara Danvers. 

She's being prompted behind the camera to ask about the ring. Lena has her legs crossed, her hands folded over her knee with Sam's ring clear in view. They rarely wear them- she was surprised it still even fit. Lena's covered most of the talking points already. 

There's no reason for this hesitation. If Kara was able to sweat she probably would, under the heavy heat of the directional light. She looks down at the sheets of paper in her hands, but can't avoid making eye contact with Lena. 

She meets her gaze. There is no animosity in Lena's eyes. She doesn't hold any right now. She doesn't feel like Kara is deserving of her anger. 

Kara adjusts her glasses. "So the people want to know about that," she tilts her head towards Lena's left hand, and the camera follows. "Is there anyone in the picture? An engagement?" 

"I've been married for five years, to my best friend of all people." she sees the way Kara pauses, almost unnaturally still. It is in these little things that make Lena feel all the more stupid for not noticing her alien nature earlier. "We didn't feel safe- didn't feel  _ comfortable  _ enough to tell the public until now," 

"And was that because of-" 

"My brother made more enemies in his life than he did friends. But I think those times are behind us now, since his passing," she keeps her voice calm, but takes a moment to clear her throat. She doesn't think the subject of Lex will ever be something easy for her to deal with. "I also think that I've more than proved myself to be different to my family." 

Kara pushes her glasses up slightly, the gesture obscuring her eyes for just a moment. Lena tilts her chin up, and keeps her expression cooly neutral. "Was that another reason why you avoided coming to the public with your- with your marriage?" There's that crinkle between her brows, she doesn't believe it. 

"You of all people, Ms Danvers, should know that the media loves to tear people apart. I wouldn't have wanted her, or her daughter to be subjected to the same level of scrutiny as I was. She has built a life for herself, and I didn't want her association with me to destroy all that she's worked so hard for." 

Kara adjusts her glasses. She's uncomfortable. Lena wonders if it's because of the implications of this all. Lena has never told her the truth about Sam. Kara never told her about her identity. They'd both kept secrets from each other, and while the circumstances were not exactly the same... it feels significant.

"Tell me more about her," Kara says, and it sounds less like an interviewer to an interviewee and more like a friend wanting to catch up. 

"She's incredibly intelligent, but she acts like she doesn't know that she is. She's kind, almost to a fault. Stubborn, too, which is quite the combination. Really, she's... she's my  _ person _ . The only person to never let me down. She taught me how to trust people. How to let go of things. How to forgive. That's perhaps the most admirable thing about her, apart from her successes and achievements- that despite all the terrible things that have happened in her life, she still has the capacity for forgiveness. I try every day to be more like her." 

Kara's eyes shine with unshed tears. 

Forgiveness was perhaps something that wasn't for the other person's sake as much as it was for her own. 

"We're done here," Kara addresses the film crew. As soon as the cameras stop rolling, Lena stands up, runs her hands over her pants, and holds out a hand for a handshake. 

Kara takes it, and she gives her a watery smile. "I'm happy for you." 

Lena doesn't know what to say to that, so she says nothing. Only gives Kara a solid handshake, a friendly smile, and leaves with her head held high. 

-

A kiss-cam is what confirms it, of all things. Ruby was desperate to see the Metropolis Meteors play against the National City Diamonds. She wouldn't take being in the box, even though Lena had tried to convince her it would be better. 

Ruby wasn't as excited about an open bar and leather seating as Lena was. Sam found the whole thing hilarious. 

So they sit in the stands, and Lena tries not to grimace when Sam kicks an empty cup that has been there for who knows how long out of the way as they find their seat. The soda inside has gone sticky and is more viscous than it should be as it slides out of the cup and onto the concrete. 

But Ruby and Sam are smiling like it's  _ perfect _ , and perhaps it is. 

They get spotted early on, because Ruby manages to catch a ball. Lena ducks down instinctively instead of reaching out to get it, but Ruby stretches over her and plucks it from the air. 

Then promptly lands on her. 

It's absolute chaos as cheers erupt from all around and Ruby grins so wide and brandishes the ball with such pride that Lena can't even find herself to care about the fact that she probably has a few new bruises from her daughter landing on her like a ton of bricks. Sam is so excited, she accidentally spills her soda by squeezing her cup too hard, and the sticky raspberry soda seems to go  _ everywhere.  _

They're on camera for all but a second, but it's enough for the cameraperson to seek them out again between innings for the kiss cam. 

Spectators all around cheer for them, and Sam gives her a sheepish little smile before she's dragged in by Lena's hand on the front of her shirt. She isn't about to let her get away with a kiss so chaste, not on a day like this when everything feels so  _ perfect _ . 

The photo Ruby takes of them outside the stadium, both in the same red lipstick, is what Catco runs with the next day. 

Sam has it framed. Ruby claims it's the start of her photography career. Lena is just glad they're home. 


End file.
